Angel in
by Warfang
Summary: the centerfold. Sometimes, Virgil wonders what goes on in Richie's life. Especially when the technopath turns up on a centerfold. Inspired by the song Centerfold. Does have Virgil crushing on Richie, with HotGear angst.


I do not own Static Shock! The time through making this fanfic just flopped twice and died, so here's the remake (may you never see the original).

This was done from Rock Band to Centerfold by J Geils Band.

On with the story!

Virgil sighed and flopped backwards. No action now meant plotting villains, but instead of wasting time searching out villains, he spent his time working as an intern at Wayne Tech.

Right now he was fresh out of college, with an apartment, keys to a company car he carpooled with, and most of his paycheck was going to the academic debt he had accrued.

But he had a job, and was eyeing his break for a chance to take the bar test.

Noticing the stack of magazine's Nightwing had brought in, Virgil tagged one in the middle and brought it over. Flipping it open to a random section, he nearly shrieked when the centerfold slide out.

_Damnit, Nightwing, don't leave dirty mags around the Watch Tower,_ Virgil fumed, moving to trash the magazine.

That was when what was on the centerfold registered with him.

His blood ran cold.

Those muscles, that blond hair…he'd seen them when grabbing a shower after patrol how many times?

His memories had just been sold.

That expression on his face…he'd seen that far off look when dealing with a new schematic, and the most focused time was on the new jet skis, for the vertical takeoff.

He'd never wanted to kiss the expression off of his face before. Never wanted those eyes to look at him and focus only on him.

His angel was on the centerfold.

"RIIICHIIEEE!"

Downstairs, Richard Foley flinched.

He'd barely had time to register the scream before Virgil came tearing down.

"Upstairs. Now." Virgil snapped out, dragging the shorter male by the wrist up the stairs. Richie threw a 'help me' look back at the League's Founders. The older men and women looked at each other.

Flash zipped past to see what the commotion was about.

He came back, and was whistling. "Guess which bat forgot to check his bag for happies? And guess who was the happy?" Handing the centerfold over, Flash watched the incriminating picture change hands.

"Now, I was there when this was taken." Flash added before the accusations could start. "Just let me nip down and see if the photographer sold this, before we think about kicking him out on trumped up charges."

"We'll need a formal explanation later." Superman said.

"Sure. Lock coordinates for the University Richie went to, and see if you can track down the art teacher's assistant, the Asian one." With that, Flash zipped away to replace the centerfold, before heading out.

The shouts from the younger member's lounge were heard throughout the Watch Tower.

"I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU! IF YOU NEEDED SOMETHING-"

"Not what it looks like, V! Honest!"

"What ELSE could it be!"

"A job! Not what I meant! You see,"

"Yeah, and every other sleaze ball!"

"Are you jealous that you're no longer the sole witness to me working on something? She said it was for extra credit!"

"I thought you were gay!"

"I AM! SO SHUT UP, SIT DOWN, AND LISTEN!"

Richie's voice had finally risen to the rolling thunder that his father never used. The silence after his words was louder for it.

"Okay. Okay. So, I'm at college, and I need art credit to graduate. I'm in my senior year. My schedule hasn't worked out, classes back to back. So the art teacher offers to skip my hours and give me full credit if I do side jobs. Posing for nudes without the payment, staying late, assisting on heavy lifting and the students own projects. So I take it. One job, the assistant, Mary, she's Catholic, wants to get this job. But her portfolio is lacking."

The door shuts finally, and the rest of the League are blessed not to share in the lover's spat.

Superman exhales slowly. Batman is finishing up his work, before he hits the intercom.

"Nightwing. Front and center. Now."

There's a sudden interest to be in any room not near the common room or on the main deck. Those stuck working on the main deck attempt to ignore the calm before the storm.

If they're lucky, Batman will chew Nightwing out somewhere else.

* * *

><p>Richie finished pacing.<p>

"I swear, those pictures were confidential. Backpack's the only other one with a copy, and Mary is the last person who would sell to anything lewd. Only thing making sense is someone stole them, but my contact information is still the same. She would have contacted me."

Richie sat down, facing Virgil.

"I'm sorry, Virgil. I never thought this would expand from a simple assignment. I mean, I'd have been held back from graduating if I hadn't gotten that art credit. Sorry about that."

Virgil shook his head.

"It's my bad, Rich. All I saw was you shirtless in a magazine, and I totally lost it."

"Yeah, considering I'm dating Francis, I'd love to explain this- oh shit I better call him!" Richie dove off the couch and to his bag, yanking out his cell phone and flipping it open.

Virgil settled back against the couch, an icy expression on his face.

Francis this, Francis that, Hotstreak got a job, they might move in together…

A brief thank you to Batman for squashing that idea before it grew rose up in Virgil. What Richie saw in that ex-convict was beyond Virgil.

"What? Flash is there? Mary's dead? Oh Francis, I can be there in five minutes, okay sweet heart?" Richie's tone when he tenderly said Francis' name….Virgil really wished F-Stop had died that night out on the docks.

Or never flirted with Richie. Whichever got him out of the picture.

"What? Maria came by? Isn't she your ex-girlfriend? Wait, what? Stay here? Francis, is this something you have to say to my face?"

Richie went still.

"Oh. I see. No, Francis, I'm happy. I'm really happy. I wish you all the best. Take care."

Silence, while Francis said something. Virgil stretched, accidentally putting his hand near his ear and eavesdropping.

"…get your stuff and we'll talk over this. But she's pregnant, Rich. And she's so scared. I want to support her, and you and I were taking a break while you sorted out your feelings, but I don't want to decide this for you."

"Well, he's kind of standing over my shoulder, so how about that ice cream shoppe at the corner? And I'll give you my definite answer then. But, I want you to tell her that I'll help as well. Take care, Francis."

"Trouble in paradise?"

"Maria is pregnant, and she doesn't know who the father is. Cue Francis stepping in to take care of her, and our break up." Richie dropped the cell back into his bag.

"I need some time, Virgil."

Richie shuffled his way to his room.

"Flash is there and hunting up answers, and Mary is dead, and the pictures are missing. He's assisting the FBI right now. I'm catching some sleep."

Virgil sat there, listening to Richie toss and turn before he dropped off.

_How does that other song go? Be careful what you wish for, because you just might get it. _Virgil mused.

He now had a shot to get together with Richie…right in the middle of an emotional break up. And forget being the rebound guy. Richie had nearly talked himself out of going to college, over analyzing the situation and thinking with his brain too much.

With a sigh, Virgil slumped down.

This is worst than his angel being in a centerfold.

* * *

><p>AN: Aaargh! (makes strangling gesture) This deviated as well! Well, it didn't deviate nearly as much, so it'll go up. Four pages, 1,300 words (I don't include author's note. Ya'll never read those).

Oh, and cookies to whoever guesses why Richie needed a time out to sort his feelings.


End file.
